


The Greenhorn

by fleurlb



Category: Deadliest Catch RPF, Friday Night Lights
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new greenhorn with a shady past starts on the Timebandit</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greenhorn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devilc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a Yuletide treat, but my life had other plans. I loved this prompt and the idea has now become part of my head-canon.

_First day of the crab fishing season, the wheelhouse on the Timebandit_

“So, how are you feeling about the crab fishing season so far?” asked the producer, just to start things rolling. Jonathan and Andy were seasoned veterans of the interview, but the producer still found it best sometimes to point them in the direction that he wanted to go. God knows where they’d end up otherwise. Given the bags under Andy’s eyes, they’d had a late last night in port. 

“Ask us after we’ve pulled our first string,” replied Andy before downing half a mug of coffee.

“Yeah,” said Jonathan, looking over at the camera. “But you know, we got a good crew, so I’m feeling good about things.”

The producer glanced at his notes, took a deep breath, and jumped into uncharted territory. “So, are you worried about having an ex-con on board?”

A brief look passed between the brothers and Andy shook his head. “You talking about the greenhorn?”

“Yes, Tim Riggins.” 

“Man, there ain’t a fishing boat on the Bering Sea that doesn’t have an ex-con or two on board. It’s not a big deal.”

“Hell, even a Hillstrand or two has been picked up for a DUI or a drunk and disorderly now and then. Maybe they haven’t all been charged, but we’ve all spent at least a night or two in a holding cell.”

“Amen, brother,” said Jonathan with an outstretched fist that Andy dutifully bumped. The producer smiled and made a mental note to ask about the brothers’ younger, wilder days. Might not be anything that could ever make it onto the screen, but the producer was a sucker for a good story.

“It’s different though,” said the producer, elaborating after Jonathan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “A DUI is a crime of irresponsibility. Receiving stolen property is another realm entirely. It’s not an ‘I was a dummy’ sort of crime. It’s more of an ‘I’m a dishonest person, maybe I still I am’ kind of crime.”

A dark cloud passed over Jonathan’s face and he looked back at the camera, steadfast. “Look, the kid did his time, paid his debt to society. Case closed. It’s not an issue.”

“So you’re not worried about him?” asked the producer.

“Damn straight I’m not. Besides, there’s at least three sides to every story: mine, yours, and the truth.”

Andy nodded. “And when you’re talking about the court case, you got the prosecutor’s side as well. You think some of those guys aren’t dishonest?”

The producer looked up sharply from the notes that he was scrawling. “Are you suggesting Tim might have been wrongly convicted?”

“Nah, man, I’m not saying that at all. But I am saying that we did our due diligence, we talked to a bunch of people down there in Dillon, Texas, and we were convinced that the kid deserves a chance.”

“So he gets a chance,” said Jonathan, with the finality of a captain issuing an order. The producer took the hint and moved the conversation back into safer waters: the captains’ bet.

\---//---

_Two weeks into the crab fishing season, the wheelhouse on the Timebandit_

“So, how’s Tim working out?” asked the producer, even though he knew the answer to the question.

“Are you kidding me?” replied Jonathan. “I almost don’t want to say anything because I don’t want to jinx it.”

“I’ve never seen anybody work through seasickness like he has,” said Andy. 

“You remember Scotty’s friend who tried to be a greenhorn? What was his name?”

The brothers looked at each other blankly before Jonathan continued. “Shit, doesn’t matter. Point is, by the second day, he was curled up in bed, begging for his mommy. This kid puked non-stop for 10 days and still kept moving. And moving fast.”

“He’s damn near unstoppable is what he is,” said Andy. “Wish we could find a whole crew just like him.” 

“Plus, he doesn’t cause trouble, he doesn’t start problems. He just gets the job done. The guys appreciate that. Last thing you want is a greenhorn with a big mouth.”

The wheelhouse door swung open and Mike stuck his head in. “Hey, captain, the greenhorn is looking a little blue in the lips, but he’s still chopping bait.”

“See that,” said Andy. “When was the last time a crew member came in to complain that a greenhorn was working too hard?”

Mike flushed. “I don’t want him going hypothermic or anything. Last thing I need is to have the kid go goofy on us.”

“Send him up, but don’t say why,” instructed Jonathan.

After the door swung back shut, Jonathan pulled out his wallet, rooted around, and came up with a hundred dollar bill. He slapped it down on the producer’s notebook. “Hundred bucks says he won’t take a break.”

The producer weighed it up in his mind. The crew had been going for 14 hours straight. He himself would take a break in a cold second. Even a twenty minute nap on the lumpy bunk mattress sounded like heaven.

“You’re on.”

“Sucker bet,” said Andy with a low chuckle.

The door creaked open and Tim came in, standing uncomfortably in the cramped space.

“How you doing?” asked Jonathan.

“Fine, sir,” replied the greenhorn. He didn’t seem to know where to look and the producer realized it was probably his first time in the wheelhouse.

“Sit down, relax a minute,” said Andy, gesturing to the bench seat next to the producer.

“I’m okay.”

“How much bait you got done?” asked Jonathan.

“Six boxes. I was hoping to get another three done before we have to set the next line.”

“Six boxes is plenty. You’re looking a little blue in the lips. What say you go down to the galley and take a coffee break?”

“And the rest of the crew?”

“Is the rest of the crew in here, greenhorn?” asked Andy, playing up the mean captain angle just a little. The producer could tell that he was itching to mustache-twirl just a little. 

The greenhorn looked down and cleared his throat, then looked up and addressed Jonathan. “If it’s all the same to y’all, I’d rather get ahead on the bait.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t say we never tried to give you anything,” said Jonathan, looking away to cover his smile.

The greenhorn squared his shoulders and nodded, then left without saying anything more. 

“That’ll be $100, please,” said Jonathan with a grin.

“I thought you were going to talk yourself into trouble there. Kid don’t look like he’d contradict a direct order,” said Andy.

“Brother, I may be dumb, but I ain’t stupid. Which reminds me, I don’t take checks. Cash only, loser.”

The producer could only smile and pull out his wallet. “Just do me a favor and order the kid to give me an interview some time.”

\--//--

_Three weeks into the crab fishing season, the galley on the Timebandit_

“So, Tim, how are you finding working on the _Timebandit_?” asked the producer. 

Tim Riggins, the ship’s greenhorn, shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat. “It’s okay.”

“It’s hard work, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“What do you like most about it?”

“Being outside.”

The producer tried not to sigh. This kid was handsome, in a sloppy and rugged way. He worked hard and the crew loved him. He had an interesting backstory. All the ingredients needed to make him a key storyline in the new season, except the kid seemed to hate talking. 

But that answer had just opened a door and the producer knew that he had to walk through it. 

“Being outside is better than being inside?” The producer’s voice trailed up, making it a question but a quiet, non-threatening question. 

Tim looked down, his hair curtaining his face. When he looked up, the producer could see resolve. “Yeah, I was inside, in jail. But Andy and Jonathan, they’ve given me a chance and I’m not going to ruin it. That’s all I’m trying to do, not ruin it.”

“Okay, Tim, that’s okay, we can talk about something else,” the producer consulted his notes, even though he knew them by heart at this point. “You were quite a football player in high school.”

“I was okay,” corrected Tim with a small smile.

“Texas high school football’s a pretty tough game. You learn anything there that’d help you up here?”

“Keep your head up and keep moving.”

The producer smiled and let the answer hang in the air for a few seconds. Tim’s gaze was level, then he turned his head to look out the tiny window. The producer could see the finished product unfolding in his head, intercutting the words with the many clips of the greenhorn refusing to give up on the deck of the _Timebandit_.


End file.
